Lucinda
by MsDaniLee
Summary: A soul is not the ideal gift for their kind. The thought could make one angry, catastrophic even. However, the love between a sire and his childe is not easily broken. Spike/OC
1. Evil Angel

**A/N: **This story is for all of my die hard William the Bloody lovers. I prefer to call him Spike. This story is categorized as a Buffy/Angel crossover because in this story I will be making references to both of the series. This story is set after the series finale of both BtVS and Angel but some of the Angel characters will appear. How they survived may never be explained but all I know is that in my world, they did. I will say this, as far as Spike goes, there are almost NO stories with him with and an OC. It's frustrating. This story is nearly COMPLETELY AU. It is rated M for smut, language, and whatever else you feel requires a 'mature' rating. Please read, and if you like, review, and if you review, Fav&Follow! Mostly review. I really love feedback. Thank you! P.S. Expect to see quite a few familiar faces.

**DISCLAIMER: **I do not own anything besides my original characters.

_March 12, 1996_

It was quiet when she felt herself slip away. The only noise she heard was the sound of the liquid being pulled from her flesh. Her fingers were cold and she tried to feel the silk sheet under her body. The feeling in her was fading before her eyes began to close. Death was sweet. It tasted like sugar but felt like ice. It smelled like blood and sounded like air rushing from a set of lungs. Hannah felt her chest fall for the last time and then the blackness began to spread. Her mind was still trying to fight as it began shutting down from a lack of blood. Inside her mind, she clawed the blackness until her numb fingers were crusted with more blood. Blood. Everything was turning to blood. Her eyes, ears, mouth, nose were all bleeding. She looked down at her hands as the blackness hit her like a freight train. Her physical being was about to separate from her soul before something happened. She was trapped. Her soul pushed against the blackness but was futile against the wall. The space she was in became smaller and smaller. Something was surrounding her to the point of suffocating. She felt her brain go completely dark when two soft words echoed through her deadened skull.

"Sorry, love." Her body fell back on the bed and she felt death, the gracious being, lead her into somewhere she had never been.

_February 14, 2006_

Her heel kicked over one of the vases in the flower shop. The pink roses were ugly but the red were disgusting. She hated roses. They smelled rotten to her and the color was sickening. Red was to be saved for something much more decadent. She looked at the lifeless body of the florist and smiled. His face looked frozen into a fearful stare and it tickled her inside. She looked at Alex and he immediately rushed to her side, abandoning the store clerk he had been draining. His light red hair was tousled as usual and his muscles flexed when she voiced his name.

"Alex, hold me." The command was obeyed quickly. His arms wrapped around his sire graciously while she inhaled the smell of him. Cologne and blood. It was a great smell for a man, but not hers. Together, the two stood in the dark shop, his arms protecting her. The stake in her back pocket was quiet when she slipped it out. He had no idea. Alex's mind was eased until she forced the wood into his heart and his body was surrendered to ashes. The twisted grin on her face was locked when she felt the presence behind her. She inhaled the smell of wisdom before speaking.

"To what do I owe the pleasure," She turned her head slightly and a smirk flashed on her lips. "of receiving a visit from an angel?" He stood in the doorway in a long black trench coat. She turned completely to look at him. He was significantly taller than her and his muscular body was blocking the moonlight in the shop. She licked her lips and took a step closer. "Finally come for a taste?" Angel's lip perked up in a smile before he stepped closer to her and his body swayed graciously.

"Hello, Lucy." Her eyes closed as he said her name. It rolled off his tongue beautifully. When her eyes reopened, he was standing only inches from her face. Her grin was fading to an innocent smile when he looked around the shop. "You've made quite a mess." The giggle that came out of her was menacing. Lucy took her own sweeping look across the room.

"I believe I have." He nodded his head and took a step toward the florist, the slight breeze catching the lapel of his coat. He looked down at the lifeless creature and sighed sadly.

"He was probably a good man." Angel reached down and closed the dead man's eyes gently before looking back at the woman. It had been two years since he had last seen her. She looked much the same. Her long, dark brown hair was still slightly wavy and her deep chocolate eyes still beamed with a beautiful glow. To the naked eye, she could be human. Lucy's once tanned skin was now a softer pale that almost made her look ghost-like and the moonlight illuminated her face like the sun. The epitome of stunning was no match for her. Although she was naturally a short woman, her thigh-high boots, hidden by a pair of dark jeans, made her stand nearly six inches taller. Angel towered over her still, smiling at the girl who once knew nothing more of life than living.

"I know he was." The brooding vampire looked in her direction. "I could taste it." Her tongue ran over her pink lips seductively but it only made Angel shiver. Before he could realize it, she was behind him, wrapping her arms around his waist lovingly.

"Why Monterey, Lucy?" She inhaled his scent and opened her eyes.

"Why not?" He turned, feeling his anger bubble.

"Because, you're getting a bit too close for comfort." Lucy shrugged and began walking toward the crimson roses on the far wall of the shop. Lifting one, her polished fingers began plucking each petal off gingerly.

"Darling, San Francisco is miles away." When she reached the center bud of the flower, she dropped the stem and picked up a new one. "It could take me ages to get there." Her eyes flashed deviously toward him. A low growl erupted in his throat and she began pacing toward the door. His eyes followed her. She dropped the stem of the rose and her tone lifted. "Besides, I was thinking of hunkering down here for a while. It's beautiful and I can swim whenever I'd like." She adjusted her coat and put her hand on her hip. Angel looked out the far window to the ocean and smiled.

"The west coast is a big place. You think you can handle it?" Her nonchalant attitude was a polar opposite to her usual demeanor.

"I think I'll be just fine. I've rented a quaint little apartment not far from here. I think it'll be quite comfortable." Defeated, Angel walked passed her out the doorway and began making his way down the road, but not before turning around and leaving her with one last plea.

"Just try not to make such a mess?" She smiled and turned, disappearing into the darkness of the night. He began walking down the dark road before flipping out his cellphone. The number he dialed was all too familiar and he hated having to call but the necessity of the situation outweighed his options. Angel knew he would never hear the end of it from his friend; calling at such a late hour. He knew his oldest comrade was most likely at the butcher's shop getting 'groceries'. The phone rang a few times before an agitated voice answered.

"Damn it, Angel! Are you aware of the bloody time?" Angel smirked into the phone.

"Good to hear from you too, Spike. How are you?" The voice on the other end sighed and the tall vampire could hear movement on the other end of the line.

"Well, I was just getting myself some dinner. And you, mate?" The two chatted for a moment about life and moving on with such until Spike brought up the purpose of Angel's call. "So, why did you call in the first place? In some trouble, are ya?"

"Well, I need you to do me a favor." He could hear the blonde on the other end groan.

"Is this a, 'The world is ending, Spike and I need you to save the day' kind of favor because, you know mate, I am still recovering from all the fun in LA." Angel reached the train station and began looking for the next train home.

"No, nothing like that. I just need you to keep an eye on someone for me." Without question, Spike seemed willing to help his old friend.

"Well, I think I can do that. Just as long as it's not in Sunnydale." Angel chuckled.

"No, but how close are you to Monterey?"


	2. Savin' Me

**A/N: **So, I've yet to have any feedback but I just cannot help myself from posting another chapter. Maybe more from me will bring something from you lovely readers! We're going to begin drilling our characters. Here we go!

**DISCLAIMER: **I own nothing but the words I write and my original characters.

Night fell along with a hush over the small retirement town of Monterey, California. Lucinda, standing stark nude on the beach, jumped into the ocean and let the waves move her lifeless body. Her head ducked under the water often but this did not bother her, seeing as how she had no need for breathing. The brunette did not remember a whole lot of emotion from her human life but she did remember that swimming was her freedom. Never competing, or using it for sport, Lucy recalled always wanting to be in the water. Something about the coolness on her—once warm— skin took her to a place where she was someone brand new. There was no need, no hunger, no loneliness, no arguing or conflict, no voice she had to ignore; she was normal. As a vampire, Lucinda found herself swimming more to cleanse her aura. If she fed on a person who was full of life and compassion, she felt too human. The feeling of being human was a putrescent aroma and she tried to avoid it at all costs. She hunted those who had a darker side because, to her, the blood was much sweeter.

Off of the high rock cliff about three hundred meters from Lucinda, Spike stood, observing her. He inhaled the breath he didn't need and raised an eyebrow as the naked woman ducked under the waves for a moment without rising. If she had been eaten by a large sea animal, his trip would be cut short. This thought aroused his mind for a moment while he contemplated where his next living quarters would be. Lucinda rose to the surface and he was pulled from his thoughts. In her hands, she held some sort of shell. Uninterested, Spike lit a cigarette and took a seat, his legs hanging from the cliff. His eyes were fixed on the horizon where the moonlight was reflected in the ocean. He hadn't seen much of the ocean in quite a while. After the occurrences in Los Angeles, Spike decided to go somewhere new. He drove up north to Canada where he spent quite some time and ended up in Alaska living in a small cabin and attempting to write poetry again. The blonde soon came to find that he was no better than he was as a human and decided to just spend his days reading books and watching television. A naturally adventure seeking vampire, the lifestyle was out of the ordinary for Spike but his recovery process was making the mellow time entertaining. A broken arm, stab wound, skull fracture, and bite wound kept him lying low. The vampire let his mind return to the present day as he chucked his spent cigarette into the ocean below. A smirk crossed his lips. He looked down at the shore where Lucy was now sitting in the sand, clothes reapplied. He stood and removed his leather coat and cotton t-shirt. Spike kicked off his boots and with one swift move, dove into the crashing waves below.

Out of the corner of her eye, Lucinda saw something white fall into the water. It looked like a man, but…no…not possible. No man would survive jumping into treacherous waters as that. Her eyes darted to the cliff where she saw it fall from and she made a dash for it with high hopes that someone had dumped a body and she could feed on the murderer. The type of crime was unheard of in miniature Monterey but she was optimistic. It took her nearly no time to make it to the area where she found the leather coat, the shirt, and the boots. A growl crossed her lips when she recognized the scent. Another vampire had moved into her new home and whoever they were decided to take a midnight swim. She looked out at the shore and knew that he must have known she was there. The view was impeccable. Gingerly, Lucy picked up the black shirt and took in the odor from it. He was male and had a familiar scent on him. It wasn't anything she had quite smelled before but she knew she had smelled something close to it. It smelled like loneliness, travel, pine, and an underlying hint of cruelty. One of Lucy's greatest traits was her ability to read scent. She could track just about anything. She took a look down the dark water and scoffed when she didn't see anyone. Dropping his shirt, she turned around to leave. Her head snapped up instantly when a thought crossed her mind. The smell was something similar to the one Angel emitted; something pure and wise. She couldn't place her finger on it but whoever this demon was, he and Angel definitely had something in common.

Spike walked down the dark road, lit smoke in hand, while she walked far ahead enough to not notice him. Contrary to his knowledge, she was completely aware of the blonde vampire stalking behind her. She had been walking for quite a while now, headed for the fisherman's wharf. The two reached the Marina quickly. Lucinda saw a couple leaving the wharf and licked her lips. They were young, teenagers maybe, and she could smell the hormones radiating from them. Unused to killing people of a more innocent demographic, Lucy shrugged off the feeling, her hunger taking over. Looking behind her shoulder, she noticed the blonde had ducked away somewhere. Not for a second did she believe he was gone but at least he wasn't going to attempt to steal her kill. Swiftly moving between two boats at the far end of the pier, she began crying out.

"Help! Someone please help!" She put on a face of despair and desperation when the couple came rushing to her. The boy looked at her, confused. "Please! You have to help! My baby fell in the water!" Eyes wide, the young man ran over to the water and began looking into the blackness. Quickly, game face now showing, Lucy covered the girl's mouth and bit her neck while her boyfriend was distracted. The blood was hot on her throat and tasted like youth. After dropping the girl's lifeless body and tossing it off the pier, the boy reacted to the sound of the splash and gasped at the vampire's face. Feeling more than satisfied, Lucinda decided to quickly snap his neck and toss him too, off of the pier. Inhaling the new smell surrounding her, she turned her attention from the sinking bodies to the figure standing on the boat in front of her. The male vampire jumped down onto the wood of the dock and eyed her up and down. Face now back to normal, her dark brown eyes sparkled while she licked a drop of blood from her bottom lip.

"Very skillful." Spike's voice was sarcastic. She just raised an eyebrow, eyeing his leather jacket that she had seen before. "I almost didn't see the elderly couple that passed by, nearly noticing." Lucy rolled her eyes and a scoff came from her.

"Oh, please." She took a step toward him. "You think I'm even the least bit worried?" Spike's lips lifted in a smirk.

"I suppose not. I'm just keepin' an eye out, love." The word made her growl. She didn't know him and she was not his 'love'. He turned to walk away and she spoke up.

"Hey," The blonde's head turned slightly toward her. "you and Angel share cologne or something?" His eyebrow quirked, confused by her question. When Lucy didn't get an answer, she elaborated. "You and him have a very distinct smell. I know you know him." She took a step closer. "It's not just coincidence that you show up a few days after I get a visit from him." Spike was grinning now. She reached out and ran a finger down his leather duster. Before she could reach the middle of his back, he was turned around, grasping her hand.

"Nothing's ever a coincidence, love." Her eyes looked up at his. They were a cool blue hue and her mind searched them for answers. She found nothing. Her lip perked and her smirk was menacing.

"What can I call you, darling?" His eyes were becoming impatient.

"Spike." She narrowed her eyes at him but her smirk was still in place. Her fingers reached and gripped around his jacket while her lips found his ear.

"I like that name." Her words were a whisper and she leaned back to look at him. The blonde was staring at her intently and she let him go, turning to stalk off in the other direction. "Stay out of my way." Her body disappeared in the darkness. Spike turned around and began walking the short few blocks to his new flat. Once inside, he pulled a bag of blood from the fridge and poured it into a coffee mug before popping it in the microwave. Spike hopped onto the kitchen counter and pulled his phone out. He called the last dialed number and waited as the phone rang, sipping on his now heated dinner. Angel picked up just before the call was sent to voicemail.

"Spike, I'm hoping you're calling with good news?" Spike jumped down and headed for the couch. He silently thanked himself that he decided to pay a bit extra for fully furnished.

"'Fraid not, mate." He heard his friend sigh on the other end of the line.

"Is it bad? Should I go down there?" Spike shook his head but decided to vocalize as well.

"Nah," He sipped at his blood. "I've got it handled for now. I just don't see her staying here long."

"Why is that?" Spike leaned back against the cushions.

"Well, there is less than thirty-thousand people here and it's not very exciting." Angel shrugged.

"You're right. Lucinda is only about eight years into this life. She'll be seeking adventure soon enough." Spike finished off his meal.

"It's actually just shy of a decade now." The line went silent and the blonde vampire had to slap himself. He didn't even think before saying it.

"Spike," Angel's voice was serious. "how the hell do you know that?" He set his mug down and shut his eyes tightly, trying to avoid the question.

"Oh, ya know, mate. I know things." He peeked one eye open, hoping Angel would leave the subject.

"Spike," He pressed.

"Well, I guess you could say I used to know her when she wasn't so…dead" Angel's voice raised an octave.

"You _sired _her?!" Spike's head leaned back and his eyes shut in agitation. He didn't want to talk about this.

"I might have." Angel began to give the younger vampire a lecture.

"And you didn't mention this because?" He rubbed his eyes and stood to go over to his bed. Kicking off his boots, the blonde laid down, his head hitting the soft pillow. His eyes darted over to the clock and he realized the sun would be up soon. He needed to get to sleep.

"I didn't find it important. Besides, don't you want to hear the reason I called in the first place?" Angel sighed on the other end.

"Proceed." Spike turned on his side, his head becoming foggy.

"I was thinking that we could get Lucinda a gift for her birthday…ish?" Spike could hear Angel's confusion.

"What do you mean?" An evil smirk crossed his lips.

"Do you know how to get in touch with Red? You know," Spike hesitated for a moment and decided to refer to her by her occupation rather than her name. "the slayer's friend? Can't remember her name when I'm this tired." Angel confusion only heightened.

"Willow? Sure, I could get in touch with her, but, why?" A chuckle escaped Spike.

"Well, she really gave you the best gift, right?" The older vampire was silent again.

"You're not serious…" Spike yawned.

"Very much so, mate. Now, I've got some sleeping to do. Make sure you give her my number, will ya?"

"Spike, she doesn't even know you're alive. I doubt she'll be willing to call someone who spawned from hell." Spike groaned.

"Then tell her your friend William needs her bloody help!" Angel chuckled. The idea was ridiculous, but if Spike believed it would work…it probably wouldn't anyway, but there wasn't much to lose.

"Alright man. I'll let you know as soon as I talk to her." Spike hung the phone up and slammed it on the bedside table before letting sleep take his mind.


	3. All You Wanted

**A/N: ***sigh* Still no reviews. I just don't want to stop writing this. Maybe someday, someone will come across it and send me a review then. Until then, I will continue to tell the story in my heart. Oh! And for anyone reading my other stories! Fire will be updated soon and I plan to go back to Forward when I find the time, which college and Buffy are taking all of right now but I promise to get back to it!

**DISCLAIMER: **I own nothing but my original characters.

Spike wrapped a towel around his waist while making a dash for the front door. The knocking was making his headache worse and he needed it to stop. With a quick turn of the knob, the door swung open, revealing the red-headed witch who was now gawking at the vampire. Spike's lips quirked in an awkward smile, not having expected her to show up but rather call.

"Willow, good to see you. I was more expecting a ring but this is acceptable." Willow's eyes were widened and her mouth hung agape.

"S-Spike?" He hung his head and shrugged.

"Yeah, pretty much." Her fingers reached out to touch his chest and she jumped back when her fingers connected to his skin. His hand batted hers away and he looked at her, irritated. "Watch it! I don't so much care to be touched." Willow threw her arms around him instantly and he stumbled back a few steps, not expecting the sudden embrace.

"Spike! I can't believe you're alive! I have no idea how this is possible but I know it's a good thing!" She pulled back and the blonde's chest shook with laughter.

"Yeah, well I'm still the same-old Spike, the soulful wonder." Willow's smile widened.

"Well that's good to know. Whoever resurrected you must have deemed you worthy of it. How did it happen?" Spike rubbed the back of his neck and turned toward the kitchen.

"I don't so much like to talk about that." He began rummaging through his cupboards and Willow closed the front door before following him. "Hungry, pet?" The girl grinned and hopped up on the counter.

"Yes! That was such a long drive, I could eat a horse." Spike pursed his lips while looking in the cabinet.

"Fresh out of horse, but I do have Wheetabix." Willow chuckled.

"Of course you do, Spike." He scoffed at her before handing her the box. She reached in and began munching on the dry cereal. His frame leaned against the opposing counter and he watched her intently. Feeling suddenly uncomfortable, her legs crossed and she eyed him back. "What?" He smirked.

"You look good, Will." Her lips perked in a smile. "I appreciate you coming all the way up here." She nodded and set the cereal box down.

"It was my pleasure! I had nothing better to do anyway. When Angel called and said he had a friend who needed some help from a powerful witch, I jumped to the occasion. He told me his name was William. I suppose I should have known." Spike's smirk was now a full grin.

"Yeah, maybe you should have." Willow rolled her eyes and jumped down. She walked over to the living room and plopped down on the couch.

"So, what is it you need help with? I figured it couldn't be anything too terrible, you having a soul and all." Spike stepped over to his closet and Willow courteously turned her head while he slipped on a pair of boxers and dark jeans. He pulled his favorite Sex Pistols shirt over his head and came over to the couch, sitting next to her.

"I need a soul." She raised an eyebrow. "Not for me, obviously. There's a vampire in town, Lucy, and she's headed down a dark road quickly. This small town will be demolished in no time if I don't stop her." Willow looked at him curiously.

"Uhm, Spike?" His head turned to look at her. "You know that staking a vampire stops them pretty quickly, right? I mean, I know you've never honestly had the experience—" Spike shrugged.

"I can't kill her." Willow was flat out confused. He decided that if he didn't elaborate, she would most likely not cooperate. "Lucinda is…very close to me, even though she doesn't know it. She is who she is because of me." The red-head became wide-eyed.

"You mean you…" She trailed off and the blonde just nodded.

"She's about to reach a decade since she was turned. She was only eighteen when I killed her." Willow looked at the wall adjacent from her.

"But, Spike, you've killed vampires that you've sired before. Why is this one so different?" Again, he shrugged and leaned back on the couch. His hands came to his face and he tried to fight off the memories he knew were coming.

"She was a slayer. The slayer whose death called Buffy." He paused. "I may not have been completely thorough when I told Buffy about my past with killing slayers. I thought I had killed her but I guess not. I saw her a few years later after Dru and I left Sunnydale. She doesn't know it was me, but I just…I can't kill her. I'm not sure why. She's just different." Willow nodded, deciding not to pry any further. She stood up off the couch in front of Spike.

"Alright, well, let's get to it. Now, I need to know what kind of soul to give her." Spike raised an eyebrow. "There are several. Or, at least, several ways to receive it. I could curse her, so one moment of happiness, gone. I have the most experience when it comes to that one. Angel, and what not. Or there's the way you got yours. That one's a bit trickier." Spike nodded and stood up next to her.

"I don't want her to be tortured. I don't want her to have to fight anyone for it. I definitely don't want her to be cursed." He rubbed his face. "Is there any way we can make it so she just deals with the guilt and walks around with self-loathing?" Willow rummaged through the refrigerator before sighing and going to the cabinet and grabbing a glass. She lifted the glass under the faucet and thought to herself.

"Well, I'm not quite sure yet but I may have an idea." Spike stepped so he was standing in front of her.

"Yeah?" She took a pull from her water. "What's that, pet?" She looked into his blue eyes and took a deep breath. She forgot just how charismatic he was. However, tall, pale, and handsome wasn't really her type. She preferred short, awkward, and quirky.

"I have to do just a little research but I'm pretty sure if I ask a favor of the Goddess of the Underworld, we may be able to pull it off. I have done quite a few favors for her in my day; I think she could help me out this once. I have my spell books and the necessary supplies, but if I'm told I need more, is there a magic store around here I could go to?" Spike nodded.

"Yeah, there's one down at the wharf, not too bad either." Willow set her glass down with a 'clink' and grabbed her bag from the counter.

"I'll get to work then. I may need some alone time, so do ya mind going out for a while? Maybe pick me up some real food?" Spike scoffed. His pale hand reached for his duster.

"What do you want, then?" He reached his arms through his jacket and looked back at Willow, who was pouring salt into a large circle on the floor. "You're sweeping that up later." A smirk pulled at her lips.

"Any good seafood places around here?" The blonde pinched the bridge of his nose, his headache resurfacing.

"Will, we're on the bloody coast! Of course there is!" Her green eyes shone up at him and he couldn't help but let his irritation fade. He took a deep breath and looked at her. "What would you like?" She beamed at him and continued her work of setting up the ritual.

"Oh, anything. I've heard they make great clam chowder around here." He chuckled.

"Picked up a pamphlet on the way here, did you?" She began lighting her candles.

"Sure did! I am now craving a bread bowl filled with yummy clam chowder and a cola. I'll see you in twenty?" Spike headed out the door and made his way toward the seafood place he knew of just down the road.

Willow looked across the table where Spike was picking at a shrimp salad with his fork.

"Watching the ol' waistline?" His eyes shot up, diverting from his thoughts.

"Huh?" She pointed her spoon at the leafy entrée. "Oh, no. I hardly ever eat human food. I just thought a salad sounded good. Turns out, I just wanted the shrimp." The man lifted a shrimp and bit into it. Willow continued eating her chowder.

"So, the ritual went pretty well. I'm pretty sure I can get Lucy's soul granted as long as I get it done within the next few days. The lengthy part will be getting all the supplies." She began cutting into her bowl.

"And why is that?" Spike shoved a piece of lettuce into his mouth before taking a swig of his warmed blood. Willow scrunched her nose at him before answering.

"Well, I'll have to take a trip to that magic shop. I need some more candles, a newt's eye, and some Nightshade." Willow said the last word quicker and quieter than the others. Spike's head snapped up.

"Belladonna?" She avoided his gaze. "What in the hell do you need that for? We want to redeem her, not kill her!" Willow rolled her eyes, now looking at him.

"Not for the poisonous properties! For the anesthetic use." Her head ducked toward her bowl a bit. Spike leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms over his chest.

"We're putting her to sleep?" His brows were raised and she attempted to explain.

"Well, you know how some rituals require an offering to the Goddess? This one requires one directly from her. Not something we can steal from her…crypt…or basement, whatever she lives in." Spike voiced.

"Apartment." Willow raised her eyebrows now.

"Wow, you vamps are really moving up in the world!" Spike cleared his throat. Her mood faded and she returned to the conversation at hand. "Anyway, the Nightshade will help get what we need." Spike hadn't moved.

"Which is?" The red-head shrugged.

"Her blood." His eyes widened and Willow straightened herself.

"Blood? As in, the real thing?" She nodded. "How much?" She thought to herself and sighed.

"Well, to play it safe, I'd say a pint?" Spike stood up, his hands connecting with the table causing a loud banging sound. Willow sat back, unafraid.

"A pint?! The fuck Willow?! What kind of ritual are we doing?! Do you have to bathe in it?!" Willow stood as well, her voice raising an octave.

"Spike! I need enough to fill the chalice multiple times if it doesn't work the first time. All we have to do is slip it in her drink, wait until she passes out, drag her back here so I can take her blood, and drop her off back at her house. By the time she wakes up, she'll have a soul and won't even remember drinking the drug!" The blonde's mouth hung open.

"It's that easy now?" Willow smiled proudly and nodded. He sat back down in his chair and continued poking at his salad. She followed suit and began swallowing mouthfuls of her soup. He looked up at her from under his brows and let his voice slip out menacingly. "Next thing I know, you'll be telling me I have to dance around her naked body, wearing some voodoo headdress, chanting in Swahili." Willow's laughter bellowed between bites.

"No way! I really don't think you want her to turn into a Nurgara Demon!" Spike lifted his head sharply and she seemed honestly amused by her own joke. He silently wondered to himself what Willow was really capable of. "So, when do you think we can slip it to her? It's still early. We can probably make it to the magic shop before it closes." Spike nodded.

"I know we can. Doesn't close till eleven." He looked up at the clock and noticed that it was barely past six. "You have to slip her the drug though. She'll smell me from a mile away." The girl nodded, finishing her meal.

"No problem! Is there anywhere she usually hangs out?" Spike took a sip of his blood while a devious grin lifted to his lips.


	4. How To Save A Life

**A/N: **I got one follower! I also got a Spike in views! Ahhh! Spike! Damn, my puns are lame. My name should be Buffy. Shit, never mind. Anyway, I appreciate it and I encourage you to review! Give me some feedback! I like to know what you enjoy seeing and what you don't. PLUS! I need to know if you feel the story needs something! Well, you know. Anyway, here's the fourth chapter. Things are about to happen. –dundundun!- I've got my dark and sadistic playlist on and I'm all done with my math homework so I have nothing but time! College sucks, just sayin'! Here we go!

**DISCLAIMER: **I own nothing but my original characters. It saddens me. What I would give to own Spike!

Larry's Tavern bustled while the brew bubbled. Lucinda loved the atmosphere; it was her typical feeding ground. She smiled when she noticed two guys in the corner getting wasted and possibly beginning an argument. With any luck, one or both would leave, bruised and bloody, just waiting to be drained. She took her usual seat at the polished bar. With a glance, she noticed the regulars. She liked to call them the 'delicacies' because they were scarce here and the ones that existed were off limits. Small town people tend to notice when someone like that goes missing. They usually notice when anyone goes missing but there were the occasional tourists, burglars, and ill. They were her meals lately and she could feel herself growing bored with Monterey. The last few weeks had been nice but the itch she was feeling was getting unbearable. She could nearly smell San Francisco and she wanted a taste. It wasn't easy to stay put and she knew that if Angel caught wind that she was in his city, he would have her staked. However, stealth was one of her many gifts. Lucy quickly shushed the voice in her head telling her to stop thinking like a blood thirsty fiend and turned to the bartender. The pretty red-head smiled at her. She was new. The vampire could smell it. She was also powerful; a witch, no doubt. This made her eyebrow quirk when she brought her full attention back to the pale woman.

"What can I get ya, hun?" Willow tried not to seem out of the ordinary but the way Lucinda looked at her told the girl that she knew something was off. The brunette's voice was smooth, like cool metal when she spoke.

"I'll take a shot of Wild Turkey." Willow nodded her head and turned around. She pulled the bottle off the top shelf, having to stand on her toes, and when her foot reconnected with the floor, she bumped the bartender's leg. She glanced down. Earl was unconscious and would stay that way for, at most, another twenty minutes. She silently apologized before pouring the amber liquid into a shot glass. Her hand swept over the glass nonchalantly and the Belladonna disintegrated into the alcohol, making it indistinguishable. She turned and handed it to the vampire who slammed it back quickly. Satisfied with herself, Willow tended to the other customers before Lucy's voice caught her attention. Her words were slurring a bit and the red-head had to bite back a smile.

"S-So. How long have you been practicing?" Willow turned and saw Lucy's eyelids begin to droop. She acted casual as she poured the vampire another shot of the liquor, slipping another dash of Nightshade in the drink.

"What's that, sweetie?" Her eyes shifted to meet Lucy's. She wore a devilish grin when she handed her the drink. The witch leaned her weight onto the bar and looked at the demon.

"You're a…a w-witch. I can smell it." Her head turned when a patron slammed his glass down on the wooden bar.

"Could I get some service down here?!" Willow held a finger to Lucy as she refilled the man's glass with beer. Her words were much more relaxed, knowing that she had the upper hand.

"Oh, well, it's been a long time since I fiddled with that sort of thing. I don't even think you could call me a 'witch'." The vampire shook her head and held her glass out. Willow poured the alcohol and added more of the drug.

"Oh, y-you are. I…I smell power in you. You sm-smell like candles and…sp-sparkles." Willow let out a chuckle while Lucy pounded her glass. Once the shot flowed down her throat, Lucy blacked out. The timing could not have been more impeccable since the red-head noticed Earl begin to stir. Willow quickly dialed the number in her phone and in an instant, Spike was in the bar, carrying Lucy out. A few people's heads turned when he slung her over his shoulder and made way for the door. The witch followed suit and soon they were in the alley, headed for Spike's apartment.

"So, how long will she be out?" The blonde's accent was muffled with a lit cigarette in his mouth. Willow grabbed the smoke and took a drag.

"Judging by how much she had? Long enough. I didn't expect her to be such a lightweight and thought I'd have at least double the dosage in her by now but we still have plenty of time. Worst comes to worst, I can give her more." She handed the cigarette back to Spike and he raised an eyebrow.

"Didn't know you smoked, Red?" She shrugged.

"You'd be surprised what you learn about yourself when shit happens."

Lucinda's limp body sat, tied in Spike's wooden computer chair, while Willow removed the tube and bag from the needle in her arm. Her arm began to form a dark purple bruise where the puncture was, the sickly color soiling her pale skin. Willow connected a small syringe to the needle and pushed a clear liquid into her arm before removing the needle. Spike stood, arms crossed, watching the entire event happen silently. Once the gauze was around her arm, the witch stood and began untying her restraints.

"Alright. I pumped her with fluids so the Nightshade should be worn off within the hour. I would say thirty minutes to play it safe. Think you can get her home quick enough?" Spike just nodded and stepped over to the lifeless body. The look made his stomach tighten. He hadn't seen her look as dead since he killed her. His arms reached up and slipped under her legs. Bridal-style, he carried her out of the apartment and toward her own. Twelve blocks down a damp road he walked until her home came into sight. Skillfully, he reached into her pocket and dug out the keys without compromising his hold on her. His boot pressed the door open and he glanced around before stepping inside, thankful that the invitation rule didn't apply for vampires' living quarters. His feet shuffled toward the small bedroom, reaching the bed. Carefully, he laid her down, letting his fingers slip over her forehead. An unfamiliar feeling trickled through him, making him frown. He sighed and stepped back, taking in the sight before he carefully swept out of the apartment, locking the door, and leaving the keys behind the fire extinguisher next to the door outside.

Willow chanted, feeling the power surge through her. The feeling was invigorating and horrifying at the same time. A magic addiction was not something she thought upon often. Though, she remembered why she possessed one. Magic was an entirely different beast to dance with. She focused on the task at hand. Her fingers released the sand into the chalice and she watched as the blood rose from the glass. It swirled in a dizzying fashion mid-air and emitted a blinding light. Spike's eyes narrowed but did not close. He refused to break the contact with the spell at hand. He sat just outside the circle of salt, a sliver dagger at his side. Willow's intentions were clear when she handed it to him. The ritual gets out of control; he breaks the connection by killing her. He refused at first but soon realized that he would rather deal with dead Willow instead of psychotic, possessed, demonic Willow. The light dimmed and the blood was now snow-white, slowly falling back into the chalice. The witch's eyes closed and she took a deep breath. When she exhaled, the candles blew out and an elated smile rose to her face.

"I think it worked!" Her voice was at a pitch Spike had never heard. He stared into her dark green eyes before he glanced into the chalice. Inside was a milk-resembling liquid.

"How can we tell if it worked, Will?" Willow picked up her spell booked and flipped through a couple of pages. She fingered something and raised her other hand in the air.

"Ah-ha! Here it is! If the ritual is performed properly and the favor is granted, the offering will change form." She slammed the book shut; she and the vampire both leaned their heads over the chalice. She leaned back and took another deep breath. He nodded his head and looked at her intently.

"What's the catch?" Willow's eyes were closed and she was meditating. She responded by raising an eyebrow and humming.

"Hm?" He stood up.

"What's the catch, Red?" She shook her head.

"No catch." He folded his arms over his chest and she peeked on eye open. Noticing his demeanor, she shrugged. "Well, I suppose there may be one…or two…" His voice was a growl.

"Willow." She stood and lifted the chalice, handing it to him. He took it and noticed a heat radiating from the glass.

"This is the spell. It cannot be tampered. The blood must stay in the chalice at all times." Spike held it steady.

"Or…?" She walked over to the closet, pulling a broom out.

"Well, if it is removed from the chalice, she dies." Spike leaned his head back. He was surprised to hear her go on. "If she drinks it, the spell is broken." The blonde stepped over to the table and set the blood down. He looked back at the red-head who was sweeping up the salt and moving the candles. "And if she bites a human, the spell is broken for twenty-four hours." She looked up at him. "That's it though." Spike scoffed.

"Is that it?" He ran his hands over his gelled hair. "Bloody hell, Will! If I had known there would be conditions, I would have staked the wench!" Willow smirked.

"No you wouldn't've." He snarled in her direction and she giggled.

Lucy awoke; her eyelids heavy. The first thing she noticed was the smell in the room. He had been here. The blonde. She wracked her brain for his name but her mind's eye was quickly filled with faces; faces she didn't remember. Old, young, dark, light, scared, terrified, dead, pale, all were racing through, staring at her. She tried to clear her mind but they just kept coming. A voice in her head screamed, piercing her brain. Her hands flew to her ears and she tried to quiet the screeching voice. She shushed rather loudly and slammed her head against the pillow. She felt blood trickling from her nose and run down her lip. The thoughts were loud, the faces were vivid and they were all speaking to her. They were saying one word.

"_Murderer_." She felt a burning sensation as one face rose to the surface. She stared into the chocolate eyes that twinkled at her. The skin was tanned and the hair was dark. Hispanic features fluttered across the face and she recognized it. Hannah. The human. She was rushing toward her, halting just before she slammed into Lucy's face. She smiled, her pink lips twitching before an ear-shattering scream flew from her mouth. Her eyes snapped open and she looked down at her hands. Hannah. She was Hannah Roberts. That was her name. She was eighteen. She was of Spanish and Portuguese origin. Her mother was Dolores and her father was Samuel. Her parents were dead. Someone had killed them. Lucy had killed them. _She_ had killed them. Her body, it was different. Her full breasts were shrouded by a black corset and a leather coat. The curves of her body were contoured by tight jeans and thigh-high boots. Her fingers were blood red. Blood. She craved blood. She needed blood. Hannah sat and questioned herself, although knowing all the answers. She had been locked away for a near decade while a demon ran her life. She had killed so many. The blood flowed from her nose faster and she caught it with her finger. Her head still spun, the faces still speaking. Different words came now.

"_Killer_."

"_Monster_."

"_Bitch_."

"_Demon_."

"_Murderer_."

"_Trick_."

"_Whore_."

"_Beast_."

"_Vampire_."

Vampire. Vampire. Vampire. She was a blood thirsty demon. She was everything she had ever feared, hated, hunted. She was a slayer. _Was_ a slayer. Now, she was a demon. Why did this happen? How did Hannah push through, leaving Lucy snarling and clawing against the barrier? One face came to her mind. Angel. The face spoke one word that made her eyes widen and her throat tighten.

"_Soul_."


	5. Emergency

**A/N: **Sorry, I know it's been a while. I've been sick. Big S/O to **SemiraBlake** for being my first review! On with the show. Please review. It makes me want to update quicker.

**DISCLAIMER: **I own nothing but my original characters.

Spike let his cigarette burn until the filter singed. His lips turned in a grimace when he tasted the smoke. The back of his jacket lifted with the wind while he overlooked the dark waves. The ocean's lack of predictability kept him entertained until he heard the footsteps he had been expecting.

His lip twitched before heard her body weight fall to the ground next to him. For only a moment, he observed her. Hannah's hair was disheveled and poorly pulled back. She looked different. She wore a pair of jeans, a t-shirt, and no shoes or coat. Spike knelt down next to her but kept his gaze on the horizon.

"Bad night?" His British accent was laced with sarcasm. Her eyes didn't move as she stared out at the water. He noticed a tear roll down her cheek. It was a long moment before he heard air rush from her and her shaky voice emerged.

"How did this happen?" He pulled another cigarette from his pack and lit it. His eyes looked over to her.

"It was simple, really." Hannah's eyes closed and a tear rolled down her cheek. "It's for the best, love." Her hand reached up and pulled the tie out of her hair, letting her long, dark locks flow freely. What was left of her makeup washed away with her now steady flowing tears.

"It burns." Spike's hand reached up gently and he felt her body tense when his fingers touched her shoulder. His hand ran down her arm comfortingly. "I understand why you did it. I just don't understand why you couldn't just kill me." The blonde moved his hand and flicked his smoke off the edge of the cliff.

"It wasn't that easy." His blue eyes met hers. "You have too much potential." Her eyes narrowed and she sprung up to her feet, towering over him. Her rage began to burn the tears pouring from her eyes.

"What the fuck does that mean?" Spike was on his feet quickly and he stood nose to nose with her. His hand reached to rise in his defense but she took a step back. He shrugged.

"Lucy, you need to understand. You were meant for so much more than destruction." Her lip twitched and a low growl escaped her chest.

"No." Spike lifted his eyes, confused. "My name is not Lucy." Her face twisted into a look of utter disgust. The man tried to lift his hand to her face but she snarled and swatted it away.

"Well, what do I call you then?" Spike's voice was accented with irritation.

"Hannah. My name is Hannah." Her eyes were angry as they reflected the stirring rage inside of her.

"Well, Hannah, I did this for a reason. Now that the demon is locked away, you can actually begin your new life." She raised an eyebrow. Spike ran his fingers through his blonde hair and tried to find the appropriate words. "It's hard to explain." Her hands were clenched into tight balls.

"Try." The word scraped through her teeth. Spike shrugged and tilted his head back. He knew why he couldn't kill her; he just wasn't ready to let her know.

"I'd rather not." Spike's hand rubbed the back of his neck and he turned, looking toward the road. Hannah shook her head and moved closer to the cliff, defeated and exhausted. Her toes edged off the side and her eyes glanced back at the blonde.

"If you won't kill me, I'll take care of it myself." Spike's lip twitched at the thought but his eyes never faltered on the road.

"And how do you plan on doing that?" A grin lifted to her lips as she stared down at the breaking waves. Her voice was barely audible but Spike had no problem hearing it.

"I'm going to fly." His eyebrows raised and without hesitation, he strode over to her. Following her gaze, the vampire saw the washed up dock at the shore where the water licked the sand. Old and broken, the wooden dock stood up from the ground with sharp beams that were demolished over time.

Before Spike could even say a word, Hannah launched herself off of the ground and began hurdling toward a splintered death. Without any thought, Spike's body flew from the cliff after hers, barely catching her arm and tumbling to the shore before she was impaled on a wooden beam. The action of falling hard to the sand knocked Hannah out and left Spike in a bit of a daze.

He lay on his back, looking at the stars while his head pounded in his ears. His eyes trailed over the constellations while the cold air bit his skin. In his mind, he replayed the event. She tried to kill herself. Spike knew the feeling of suicide contemplation. Hannah needed a way to understand; a way to face her demon without losing her mind. The thought crossed his mind of when he lost his. His hallucinations and all the loud noise he constantly heard. The First didn't make things any easier for him.

At that moment, Spike realized what he could do. He would make her comfortable. He would help her in any way he could. With any power he had, he would make her life easier. Once the fog behind his eyes cleared, he stood and steadied his feet. Hannah's body was sprawled in the sand, her face buried. Spike lifted her and carried the body, bridal-style up the beach and toward town.

She awoke and, like a switch, the voices began. The images behind her lids were overwhelming so her eyes sprung open. In a panic, she looked around. The smell in the air was different and the bed she laid on was warm. Hannah's eyes gazed around the room, her stare fixated on a painting hanging just to the left of the front door.

It was simple, a watercolor, but the mixes of color and line work were so intricate. To the naked eye, the painting held neither rhyme nor reason but Hannah was an art major in her human life and knew that every work of art had a purpose. She tried to decipher whether it was a painting of a flower or a very poorly lit town. The work itself was left open for interpretation.

In that moment, she realized that her mind was empty of everything but the painting. Her focus was momentarily broken and the, now familiar, voices returned. She held her head and swept the room with her eyes. The flat held a small kitchen, a couch, a television, and the bed she was laying in.

A door across the room opened and she jumped off the bed, backing into the corner. Her mind was so crowded, she could barely make out the blonde vampire exiting the threshold and stepping toward her. Spike's hair was wet and falling, free of gel. His black shirt held tight against his muscular form along with a pair of black jeans. When he reached her, his voice was quiet.

"Hannah?" His hand was inches from her arm but she cowered closer to the wall, making Spike immediately drop his hand and take a step back. His eyes never left her. "It's alright. You're safe here."

The brunette's eyes shot around the room and back at the vampire in front of her. Gingerly, she took a step toward him. Spike's stance did not falter while she slowly moved closer to him. He kept his jaw tight, ready to defend himself if need be. Carefully, her hand reached out and her fingertips grazed his chest.

He watched her study him with such concentration it made him raise an eyebrow. Before he could twitch, she grabbed a fistful of his shirt and slammed her body into his, making him stumble back a foot. Her face buried into his chest and his hand lifted to her hair, pulling her in closer. Spike felt her body tremble as sobs shook her entire form. He tried to shush her and sooth her but with every passing moment, they became louder and more violent.

Slowly, he moved them so the two were lying on the bed; Hannah curled up next to him while Spike comfortingly rubbed her back. He tried to make heads or tails of the situation but decided that the sun was rising, which meant he would worry about life when night fell again. For today, he would hold her until she fell asleep. Why he had put himself into these circumstances, he still was not entirely sure.


	6. Holding Out For A Hero

**A/N: **Sorry that it's been forever guys! Thanks to those who reviewed, favored, and followed! If you're new, please do those things! Here we go guys!

**DISCLAIMER: **I own nothing but my original characters.

Flashing behind her eyelids, the images were morbid and vivid. She could smell the blood and see the fear in their eyes while someone who looked an awful lot like her, drained them of life. Her voice tried to scream but silence filled her. Her body was frozen while the light in her mother's eyes left. Tears streamed down her cheeks while she feverishly tried to release a sound. The feeble attempt left her breathless.

The only motion her body allowed was for her to fall to her knees. Her head hung low while her tears fell into the carpet fibers. The sound of her father's screams in the next room made her body shake with sobs. She smelled spilled blood and the screaming slowly stopped. Her eyes closed, defeated.

She silently begged herself to move. She wanted to run, far away. The air was hot and she felt her skin sticking to her clothes. Sweat beads rolled down her neck. Nothing made sense. Why would she do this to her family? Her family may not have always understood her but they always tried.

Her mother's dark hair was sprawled across the carpet while her open eyes bore into Hannah's. The white skin looked so fair and sensitive when in reality, it was lifeless. She wanted to reach out and give her mother the life she had. However, she could not move an inch.

A voice rang through her ears suddenly, catching every bit of her attention. It spoke her name softly in her left ear. The sensation reminded her of cool, silky cream being poured into boiling hot coffee. Her tears suddenly stopped as the feeling of arms wrapped her up in a tight embrace. Her eyes opened and she was looking into the blue eyes she had fallen asleep thinking about. Spike's face was concerned but had the usual hardness he possessed written on it.

Once Hannah realized that she had been snapped back into reality, her arms grasped at the blonde's form. His arms held her while tears rushed from her face. His calming shushes caused her to relax slightly. His shirt began to soak. His painted fingers ran through her brown hair, feeling each strand independently.

Hannah's breathing slowed and her body slumped. The tears still ran, but she was able to slow them down. Spike's whispers in her ear were helping her nerves unclench and her gut sit still. His arms held the strong embrace and she couldn't help but take in his scent. It put her in a daze she was unsure of. The smell made her undead heart pull.

She pulled her face back and decided to look into his eyes. He studied her, trying to understand the nightmare that plagued her. The memory of his restoration flooded him and the pain he had experienced nearly made him flinch. Hannah's hand involuntarily lifted and her cool fingertips ran across his cheek. The contours of his cheekbones molded with his jawline. His face was so familiar. She couldn't place it, but she couldn't help but trust it. His lip twitched and a smirk came to his face.

Her mind found momentary peace. His face was the only one she wanted to see because it made the demon disappear for only a moment. Spike's soul matched hers and she understood why she trusted him. Only one simple fact made sense. He had restored hers. Hannah had been locked away and if not for him, she would still be. He was her savior.

Spike's hand lifted and grasped hers. He brought it forward to his lips and planted a soft kiss on it. Her eyes were so focused. She struggled to find something to say.

"You saved me." The blonde broke the gaze and released her hand. Gently pulling the covers closer to her, he let a small smile find him.

"Nightmares are the worst. I wouldn't wish them on anyone." Her voice caught in her throat. Before she could correct him, he continued. "You need to finish resting. When night falls again and you're feeling better, we'll get you some blood. For now, try to sleep. I'll be right here."

Defeated, she rested her body back on the mattress. His cool form scooted in next to her and the arms she now came to need wrapped around her. His head rested on top of hers. With her left hand, she clutched the cotton of his shirt and her right rested at his side. Without effort, sleep found her.

A knocking sound roused Spike out of his dreamy stupor. He noticed that Hannah had let go of his shirt just enough to allow him to answer the door. With a foggy mind, he climbed from the bed and silently slipped toward the door. Once opened, the tall figure slipped in and Spike smirked. He pointed his guest toward the kitchen where they could speak without waking Hannah.

"You know, mate, I didn't expect you for, at least, another week." Angel stared at Spike intensely.

"How's she doing?" Spike yawned and leaned against the counter.

"As good as to be expected. Nightmares, screaming, hallucinations, lots of screaming. I may have to bribe my neighbors into not complaining." Angel nodded and sighed. The blonde couldn't decipher as to if it was a sigh of relief or something else. "How are you?" The dark-haired vampire nodded.

"Doing okay; better than okay." Spike raised an eyebrow and crossed his arms. Angel knew he had to talk to his friend about what he came there for. "Buffy came to see me." The blonde's eyes widened and a shot of adrenaline ran through him. "Spike, she's been speaking to this Shaman about this idea he has. It's experimental but it could be potentially spectacular."

Spike's gaze was hard. "How so?" Angel laced his fingers together.

"He thinks he may have found a way to restore a vampire, completely." Spike's lifeless heart tore. Buffy had found this and gone to Angel. Of course she had. Angel was her destined mate. Spike was nothing but a key to thwarting the apocalypse. "Spike, do you know what this could mean for us?" The blonde closed his eyes and took in a long, unnecessary breath.

"Yeah, two humans getting to finally relish in their love and grow old together; the fairytale ending." Angel shook his head.

"No, man! Not her and I, you and I, and Lucy. Spike, this is our second chance." Anger boiling his blood, Spike looked up.

"At what? Disappointment? That's all this is! Some witch doctor thinks he has all the answers and suddenly, there's a light at the end of the tunnel? Sorry Angel, but I'm just not _that _easily convinced." Angel gripped the counter behind him.

"No! A second chance at life, Spike! Think about it! Our lives couldn't have been all that great. We both were seduced by bloodthirsty demons! This could be our time to live the way we were meant to!" Spike let his frustration subside to allow him to think.

"Whatever, mate. It's too much in my head. I need some air. Would you mind keeping an eye on Hannah for an hour?" Angel's eyebrows quirked.

"Sure. Don't you mean Lucy?" Spike threw him daggers.

"No. Hannah." The taller vampire nodded and followed the blonde toward the bed. He found a chair and planted himself, studying the small form in the bed. Spike slipped his boots and coat on. "I have my phone. Call if—"

A high-pitched screech came from the sleeping vampire. The blonde was next to her in an instant, Angel only a millisecond behind. Spike pulled her close and lulled her while her continuous screams dissolved and soon she was sleeping again. The dark-haired vampire stepped back and fell into the chair. Spike watched her protectively.

"Damn. You weren't kidding about the screaming. I should be able to take care of her if it happens again. How long did you say you'd be gone?" The uneasiness in Angel's voice fell on deaf ears with Spike. He only responded to the question smoothly.

"I'm not going anywhere."


End file.
